


Definitely Pals

by GingerTodgers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Disney References, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-04 20:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14600616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerTodgers/pseuds/GingerTodgers
Summary: Harry thinks that he and Draco are (badly) dating.Draco thinks that he and Harry are (good) friends.Hermione thinks that watching The Fox and The Hound is a terrible first date.Ron thinks that it's high time Harry brought a round.





	Definitely Pals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bangyababy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangyababy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Totally Platonic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845394) by [bangyababy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangyababy/pseuds/bangyababy). 



> Thank you to the lovely mods who have run such a fun fest. To bangyababy, I loved _Totally Platonic_ and hope you like your gift!

“How’s it going with Malfoy?” Ron asked as he ripped open some crisps and nudged Harry’s pint towards him. “Go on, I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Harry took a sip of his pint. He was trying not to think about Draco and he was fairly sure that alcohol would help with that.

“You and Malfoy, the gory details.”

“I don’t recall getting ‘gory details’ when you and Hermione got together.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you were a self-obsessed tit who was too busy saving to world to check how my shagging prowess was coming along.” Ron emptied an entire packet of pork scratchings into his mouth and grinned at Harry.

“I wasn’t too busy. I just didn’t give a toss.”

“Rude, guess I’ll be having these back.” Ron grabbed Harry’s packet of crisps. “So, Malfoy.”

“Why is he back to being Malfoy?” Harry hedged. “You’ve been calling him Draco since the Academy.”

“Dunno.” Ron took another gulp of his pint. “Makes you squirm a bit more when I remind you that it’s Malfoy you’re shagging?”

“M’not shagging him.”

“Bollocks.” Ron pointed a long finger at Harry. “Literally.”

“I’m not.” Harry glared at his pint.

Ron cocked his head to the side, “Taking it slow?”

“Nope.” Harry’s pint was starting to boil. Stupid fucking magic. Stupid fucking Draco. Stupid fucking—

“Oi, you alright?” Ron reached forward to move the pint out of Harry’s eyeline.

“Not really.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Think we might, er, think we might be, er, splitting up.”

“You what? You’ve only been together a few weeks.”

“Yeah.” Harry shrugged. The plan tonight had been to get a bit pissed, chat about the Canons’ chances in the League qualifiers; and then maybe stop off for a falafel on the way home. He wasn’t really prepared to talk about the dark, sour things that pressed in on him whenever he thought about Draco. “Look, can we just…not?”

“Course, er…” Ron trailed off. “Thing is…er…” he glanced at the Floo. “Thing is…”

“You invited Draco.” Harry realised.

“A bit, yeah. Sorry. Didn’t know you were, you know.” Ron mimed slicing his own throat in a gesture that was both overblown and completely accurate.

“Fuck’s sake.” Harry rubbed his hands over his face. “I told him I was having a quiet night in. How long before—” He was interrupted by the rush of the Floo as Draco and Hermione appeared. Waving cheerfully, Hermione wound her way through the crowd. Ron gave a limp wave in return while Harry sank further into his seat.

“Hello.” Hermione beamed, dropping a kiss onto the top of Ron’s head. “Busy tonight, isn’t it?”

“It’s jager night,” said Harry, glaring at the bar as a crowd of Muggle students did another round. One of them inhaled the shot glass and was immediately hit by a variety of discrete unsticking charms. Harry should probably arrest everyone for breaching The Statute.

“You decided against a quiet night?” Draco was pulling out the chair next to Harry. He didn’t look particularly cross to find that his boyfriend had lied to him and gone off to the pub. Then again, why should he? It’s not like whatever they were was whatever it was, anymore.

Glancing down at his empty pint glass, Harry realised that he may already have had a bit too much to drink.

“Would you like another?” Draco was smiling at Harry.

“M’fine, thanks.” Harry tried to return the smile, judging by Draco's confused head tilt, he hadn't done a very good job.

“Pint for me,” said Ron, waving his half-empty glass, grinning as Draco nodded and sauntered over to the bar. “Well then.” He turned back to Hermione, nudging a bag of skittles towards her. “So, the er, the Phoenix is in the er, oven.”

“What? Oh!” Hermione’s eyes darted over to Harry, scanning him for injuries. “How, um, how long has the Phoenix been in the oven?”

“Dunno, we were just starting to discuss, er, temperature settings when—”

“When I realised that you two are still doing that creepy couples’ code thing and decided to drown myself in the bogs.” Harry announced, glaring at them both.

“Alright. Firstly it’s not creepy, it’s sexy.” Ron informed him, leaning over to count off on his fingers. “Secondly, we’re not talking about you—”

“Bollocks.” Harry interrupted. “Literally.”

“And thirdly.” Ron raised his voice. “Do you want to talk about it before Draco comes back with the drinks?”

“What’s wrong with Draco?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing.”

“They’re splitting up.”

“Are they?” Hermione turned to Harry, her face all scrunched up. He hated it when something he did made her look like that. “Are you alright? I’m sorry, I know how much you liked him. Do you want me to talk to him for you or—”

“Not even the tiniest bit.” Harry interrupted her, widening his eyes at Ron.

“Best leave them to sort it out, eh?” said Ron.

“Yes, yes of course. I am sorry, Harry. I can’t help feeling a bit responsible; we did encourage you—”

“Not me.” Ron held his hands up. “I said it might be alright. That’s hardly an endorsement.”

“You told me he fancied me and that I should ‘ride that Dragon into the sunset’.” Harry felt compelled to point out, wincing as he remembered how hopeful he’d felt after that chat. Not that Harry didn’t know his own mind when it came to Draco, but it had been nice to have his best mate’s approval and—

“What have I missed?” Draco Levitated a pint, a bottle of wine, two wine glasses and a packet of mini-eggs over to the table. “For you.” He pushed the eggs towards Harry, going a little pink.

“Cheers Draco.” Ron raised his new pint, downing half of it before anyone could _cheers_ him back. “Just talking about work, you know. On the old grind.”

“The old grind?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know how it is. Working hard or hardly working, it’s a modern conundrum.”

“Stop.” Hermione murmured, placing a hand on Ron’s knee.

“Righto.” Ron drank the rest of his pint.

“What were you really talking about?” Draco persisted.

“The war,” said Hermione, her hand tightening on Ron’s knees. “What it was like, being in it.”

“Ah,” said Draco, darting a glance to Harry. “Cheerful topic. Do you, um. Is this a conversation you wish to pursue? As it were?”

“No, I think we’re done,” Harry said, glaring at Hermione. “Got it all covered. Thanks.”

“Right.” Draco nodded uncertainly, picking up his pint. Hermione fidgeted with a coaster for a few microseconds, then turned to Ron.

“So, is the ferret also in the oven?”

“Don’t know.” Ron shot an uneasy look at Harry and Draco. “The oven is definitely on but—”

“Couples code?” Draco asked Harry, ducking his head to lean in. Close. Too close.

“Yep, that’s it,” said Harry, ripping open the mini eggs and trying not to breathe too deeply. “They really should pack it in.” He raised his voice. “Otherwise someone might hex them.”

“Shhh.” Draco hushed him, apparently only just tuning into the couples’ frantic whispers. “They’re talking about us. The ferret and the phoenix. Oi.” He snapped his fingers in front of Ron’s nose. Harry tried not to smile at the sound of his own West Country ‘oi’ coming out of Draco’s prissy mouth. “What are you talking about? Why are we in an oven?”

Ron and Hermione froze, their eyes darting towards Harry as if he were going to do anything other than curse the day he met them.

“You know as well?” Draco asked. He was sitting up straight, assessing the three of them. “Tell me. Unless it’s private, of course. Although if it is private I will have you know that the Malfoys are excellent secret keepers. Minds like vaults, once something is in there it’s—”

“Stop.” Harry didn’t place his hand on Draco’s knee but he did give him a gentle nudge. “It’s nothing to worry about, we were just talking about, um…” he ran out of words.

“Um? Oh yes, a fascinating topic, one I myself greatly enjoy unpacking.” Draco glared at Harry, his back ramrod straight. “The nuances of ‘um’ truly are—”

“We were talking about you and Harry.” Hermione interrupted.

“Fucking hell.” Harry groaned.

“Well I’m sorry.” She hissed. “You can’t just tell us you’re breaking up and then not expect—”

“Breaking up? Who is breaking up?” Draco’s posture was now so rigid he looked he was about to snap in two.

“Well…” Hermione looked at Harry. “Harry told Ron that things aren't going well and…Harry, maybe you’d like to step in here.” Harry glared back at her, his arms folded.

“It’s nothing.” He said to Draco. “Ron asked how it’s going with us, you and me, and I said that we were probably not going to give the, you know, relationship idea a go but that I’m still happy to work with you and there’s no hard feelings.” He finished in a rush.

“I…” Draco looked utterly befuddled. “What relationship?”

“Right, yeah, you’re right,” said Harry, rubbing a hand over his face and up through his hair. “Couple of dates is hardly a relationship. Yeah. So anyway moving on,” he addressed himself to Ron, “do you reckon the Canons are going to play Pennyfogger on Saturday or stick with Shariq?”

“Huh? Oh! Well they’ll stick with Shariq if they know what’s good for them,” said Ron, already pushing pint glasses aside to make a Quidditch pitch on the table. “Thing is—”

“Explain.” Draco interrupted.

“What?” The queasiness Harry had been fighting off ever since Draco sat down came roaring back. “Just, you know, our dates. The dating…thing.”

“What dating thing?” Draco threw a bewildered glance at Hermione. “Did you hit your head during the raid today? I told Robards to—”

“No, I haven’t hit my head.” Harry exploded. “The fucking dates, the dates, the dating thing we’ve been doing. You know, where we date. That thing.”

“Alright mate, calm down yeah,” Ron wrapped a hand around Harry’s elbow and tugged him back down into his chair. “Maybe we all need to take a moment.”

“Ron’s right,” said Hermione. “Go back and start from the beginning.”

*~*~*

_Two weeks before._

Harry woke up hungover on Draco’s sofa. He knew it was Draco’s sofa because it was covered in cat hair and yet still looked more expensive than Harry’s entire house. Sitting up proved to be a mistake as the room dipped and swooped around him. Taking deep breaths and trying not to remember why his mouth tasted so horrible, Harry noticed his Auror robes tangled on the dining table with Mouse, Draco’s enormous white cat, curled up on top of them. As Harry watched, Mouse farted happily.

A faint banging was coming from the kitchen.

“Right,” Harry muttered, almost gagging as he dragged himself to his feet and stumbled along the corridor to the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the kitchen table, reading _The Prophet_. The table was set for two and there was a pile of toast and a plate of scrambled eggs steaming under a Stasis charm. “Ullo,” Harry coughed, tried again. “Hello, thanks for letting me crash.”

“That’s alright,” said Draco, smiling at Harry and Accioing the Marmite. The jar bounced off two of the cupboards before finally pin-balling into Draco’s hand.

“That explains the bangs, then.” Harry nodded to the jar.

“Indeed.” Draco inspected the jar for cracks. “I haven’t had this much trouble with a Summoning charm since our Academy graduation party. Speaking of which.” He placed the jar on the table and nodded to the second chair. “Breakfast.”

“Why is the kitchen spinning?” Harry asked, pulling out a chair.

“Aesthetic.”

“Figures. You got any hangover potion?”

“Sorry, I drank it all.” Draco Accioed the ketchup, it hit the light and then smacked down onto the table, sending a red fountain into the air.

“Wanker.” Harry Vanished the ketchup, ignoring the way his shaky spell took half the paint off the table top. “So selfish.”

“I let you sleep on my sofa.” Draco grinned, taking a sip of tea. “Next to my lovely cat, and I made you breakfast. Some would say you were lucky to have me.”

“Oh?” Harry started piling his plate with toast and eggs, happily noting that the toast was all cut on the diagonal. “Are you at my beck and call now, to make up for the hangover potion?”

“You’ve got Roger for that,” said Draco.

“Roger?” Would it be greedy for Harry to take three scoops of egg? He already knew Draco’s scrambled eggs were brilliant, why bother playing coy when—

“The man you spent all of last night slobbering over in Millicent’s shrubbery.” Draco persisted. “Terribly gauche, Potter. What if _The Prophet_ had got hold of it?”

“Hmm.” Harry carried on chewing. “Great eggs.”

“Thank you.” Draco still hadn’t eaten any himself. “Well? Are you going to see him again?”

“Roger?” Harry vaguely remembered a pale hazy face that wasn’t quite pointy enough, floating eyes that were brown instead of grey. After Ron had said Draco might fancy him, Harry had planned to enjoy the weekend before going into the office and asking to be assigned a different partner. “I didn’t snog him.” Harry heard himself say around a mouthful of toast. “I don’t think. No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Really.” Draco’s eyes darted to Harry, his tone sharp. “He was rather fit, didn’t you fancy a cheeky snog?”

“Um, no,” said Harry, biting the end of his own tongue to avoid laughing at Draco’s newly acquired Muggle slang. “Was he fit, then?”

“Only if you prefer your men malnourished and vampiric.” Draco sniffed, taking a sip of tea.

“Skinny and pale? Yeah that’s alright,” said Harry, grinning as Draco’s head snapped up.

“I…I’ll ask Blaise to get his number for you then, shall I?”

“Best leave it.” Harry took another piece of toast, spreading Marmite on it and pushing it over to Draco. “Not really looking for anything at the minute.” He smiled as Draco began mechanically eating the toast, shooting little glances at Harry from under his fringe.

“If he’s your type, why not call him?” Draco eventually asked.

“Just, reckon I’ve got enough long, thin, prats in my life.”

“You mean me?”

“Yeah.” Nervous panic began to claw at Harry. He’d been wanting to ask Draco out for ages but was now really the time?

“I see.” Draco looked thoughtful.

“You do? Ok. Well that’s good,” said Harry, fighting not to grin like a complete idiot. “We still on for the cinema tonight?”

“Of course.” Draco nodded. “I need to do a few things in town.”

“I’ll pick you up later then?”

“Alright.”

“Brilliant.”

*~*~*

“Oh Harry!” said Hermione. “That sounds lovely.”

“Yeah, nice one mate.” Ron grinned, tugging Hermione a little closer to him and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Thanks.” Harry grinned back. Just thinking about that morning still made something happy and hopeful swell inside his chest. The way the early morning sunlight had brought out the golden freckles that dusted the bridge of Draco’s nose and how Harry had—

“That’s it?” said Draco, staring at Harry. “Was that supposed to be a date? Eating rubbery eggs in my kitchen?”

“Brilliant eggs.” Harry insisted. “Not rubbery, brilliant.”

“Beside the point,” said Draco, looking a bit pleased. “That was a date?”

“No, that was me asking you out on a date.” Harry spoke slowly and carefully, trying to remember just how hungover Draco had been that morning. He’d seemed alright.

“Tell us about the cinema,” said Hermione. She and Ron were being very accommodating, something Harry decided to worry about later. For now he wanted to check that he hadn’t imagined his entire relationship with Draco.

*~*~*

_Two weeks before._

“Fuck you, Potter. You’ll pay for this.” Draco stormed away up the street, raising his middle finger when Harry called after him. It took two blocks for Harry to catch up, dodging past late-night shoppers and cursing Draco all the way.

“Draco!” He gasped. “Wait, I’m—”

“Did you know?” Draco interrupted, spinning around and crowding into Harry’s space. “Tell me.”

“No, I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Draco was standing very close, the wind whipping his fine white hair into Harry’s face. Thinking that he should probably step back, or push Draco away, Harry moved forward.

“I. Did. Not. Know.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“You said it was your favourite cinema.” Draco snarled, his eyes wandering down to Harry’s mouth. It would be rather hot if Harry weren’t so bloody cold his teeth were starting to chatter.

“Look.” He said, wrapping his arms around himself and starting to bounce to keep warm. “I forgot, alright? It was years ago when I saw it, all I remembered was a film about two friends who overcame their differences. Also it’s called a ‘film’, by the way. Not that that’s important! Just, er…I’m sorry. I didn’t know that Tod—”

“Don’t say it.” Draco hissed. “Tod was a complete fool—”

“Hold on a minute—”

“No consideration for his own safety or how it would feel for Copper watching Tod…w-watching him…” Draco abruptly stopped talking and glared at the sky.

Unsure of how best to comfort Draco without insulting Draco’s pride by appearing to actually try to comfort him, Harry stayed silent. Except for his teeth. They were now smashing together like the hail starting to bounce off the pavement. After a moment the noise attracted Draco’s attention as he turned rather bloodshot eyes toward Harry and, with a huff, pulled off his own scarf.

“Honestly.” Draco looped the scarf around Harry’s neck, frowning as he tucked the ends into the front of Harry’s hoodie. It was probably making Harry look like he had one giant breast in the middle of his chest but, rather than complain, he snuggled into the scarf. The action caused Draco to roll his eyes, a small smile pulling at his thin lips.

“Sorry.” Harry didn’t feel especially sorry, he just thought Draco might like to hear it again. “I never watched that many films after I went to Hogwarts.”

“Then why on earth did you suggest a trip to the film?”

“It’s actually called ‘the cinema’–yeah ok not important. I thought it would be fun and you wanted to learn about Muggles so…”

“Idiot.” Draco was properly smiling now, reaching forward to wrap an arm around Harry and pull him along the street. “Come along, Tod.”

“I am not Tod!” Harry followed Draco, ducking his head to keep the worst of the hail off his face and smiling as Draco launched into a rant about “foolish Gryffindors” who “couldn’t follow a rule to save their lives”.

*~*~*

“ _The Fox and the Hound_?” Hermione was staring at Harry in disbelief. “That was your first date? Were you high?”

“Er, no. I was hungover and I thought it would be nice,” said Harry, carefully avoiding Draco’s eyes. “You know. Small animals. Cuteness. Stuff.” He was pleased to see Ron nodding along, although Hermione still looked like Harry had just dumped Tod’s lifeless body on the pub table.

A chair screeched and Harry felt Draco shuffling next to him.

“And how was it for you? Draco?” Hermione asked, still glaring furiously at Harry. “Did you enjoy your nice date? Or was watching one of the most tragic films ever to be—”

“I think you’ll find it’s called ‘a cinema’, Hermione.” Draco interrupted. “And I will thank you to stop glaring at my—at Harry in that manner. He didn’t have many opportunities to watch Muggle cinemas growing up. You know.”

As it happens, Hermione did know that Harry hadn’t watched many Muggle films. Although both she and Harry were too busy gapping at Draco to say so and then, in a move that took Harry’s night from bloody weird to bloody what the fuck, Ron reached forward and _fist bumped Draco._

“What is happening?” asked Harry, still struggling to close his mouth and glancing wildly between Ron and Draco. “Did you just fist bump him? Did he just fist bump you? Why are you doing that? What is—”

“Nice to see Draco sticking up for you.” Ron shrugged, toasting Draco with what used to be Harry’s pint. “Come on then, if watching such a miserable film didn’t put him off you, what did?”

*~*~*

_One week before._

“I’m afraid tonight is my night to dine with Mother and Father.”

Draco was distracted as he looked over the Due Diligence Report from their latest case. Their last case as partners, Harry happily reminded himself. The request to switch partners due to “a personal relationship” was already on Robards desk. All they had to do was cross the ‘i’s and dot the ‘t’s’ – something Harry usually left to Draco – and then they would be free to do all the things Harry had spent the last few months (years, really) dreaming about doing to Draco.

Of course to do all those _things_ Harry and Draco would need to be in the same room as each other and as far away from Lucius and Narcissa as they could get without having to leave the country. Nevertheless, Harry was determined to be a good boyfriend to Draco. Even if that meant having to delay slowly sucking Draco off while Draco—

*~*~*

“Hold up.” Ron raised a hand. “You said you weren’t shagging.”

“We aren’t.” Draco spoke, his voice strained and a dark pink flush creeping up his neck. “Do try to pay attention.” He turned to Harry. “I believe you were talking about…er…your mouth and my um…er…please. Do continue.

*~*~*

_One week before._

Yes. Harry was willing to forgo an evening doing redacted and redacted with Draco in order to spend time with the Malfoys.

“Would you like me to come with you?” He asked, already trying to work out if he could charm the label on a Waitrose bottle of wine to make it look like it was elf made.

“Absolutely not.” Draco frowned at the form. “Did Gryffinbottom really say “you’ve bested me, o’mighty Potter” when you arrested him?”

“Er yes. It was awkward as fuck. Are you sure you don’t want me to come tonight? I don’t mind.”

“What?” Draco finally looked up from the DDR. “Why are you asking?” he carried on, before Harry could answer "I’m inclined to believe that inviting Voldemort to join us might be slightly less gruesome than asking you to sit through an evening with my parents.”

“Right,” said Harry, feeling a bit queasy. “I’m going to just…er…yeah, let you finish up. Have fun with your parents.”

“Cheerio.” Draco waved a distracted hand. His attention was already back on the form.

*~*~*

“Ah,” said Draco, slowly raising both hands in a placating gesture. “Now I do understand how that might have—”

“You’d rather have Voldemort for dinner? Over Harry?” Ron’s face was almost purple. “You fucking fuck, do you have any idea—”

“Harry is a wonderful dinner guest.” Hermione joined in. “Your parents would be lucky to have him. Do you hear me? Lucky. If anything they should be begging him to join them.”

Groaning quietly, Harry sunk his face into his hands. He listened as Hermione and Ron’s voices rose in volume.

“Have you forgotten he’s the only reason your mum didn’t end up in Azkaban?” That was Ron.

“Horrible thing to say.” Hermione continued. “If you’re ashamed of Harry maybe you shouldn’t be dating him.”

“I am not dating him.” Draco yelled. Causing the whole pub to go silent and Harry to slowly raise him head.

“That’s it then?” He asked, feeling almost light-headed as relief hit. Ok. This was going to hurt but at least he knew.

“No, that’s not what I…Harry…” Draco was staring at Harry, his face twisted in distress. “I didn’t realise that you thought we were. You know.”

“You made me breakfast.”

“I make everyone breakfast.”

“Lies,” Ron spoke up. “You’ve never made me breakfast.”

“That’s because I hate you.”

“More lies, you love me. The important question is why are you pretending you don’t also love Harry?”

“Ron.” Harry groaned. Everyone around them had started talking again but it was still incredibly awkward. Had he really imagined this whole thing? Draco did like cooking for people but… “What about the cinema?” He asked, turning to Draco. “It was a Friday night. Date night. I held your hand when Tod died.”

“Oh, I do apologise.” Draco was starting to look irritated. Good, Harry quite fancied a fight. “Spending time alone with an unmarried wizard, what was I thinking? Clearly that denotes a romantic entanglement. I do hope that Blaise, Pansy, my own mother, Theo, Luna and every other friend I have ever spent more than 10 seconds alone with will understand as I am clearly dating them all.” Spent, he collapsed back into his chair, glaring at Harry.

“Fair enough,” said Harry, glaring back. “But what about the hand holding? Hmmm?”

“I. Was. Up. Set.”

“You do sound like a bit of a prat, mate,” said Ron, putting another round of drinks on the table. Harry absently noted that the new drinks probably meant Ron had actually left the table at some point. “Sounds like Draco just wanted to be mates and you read into it.” Ron continued, apparently oblivious to the fact that he should be banned from speaking, forever. “Still not on for him to be ashamed of you, though.”

“I’m not ashamed of him,” said Draco, reaching for Hermione’s wine and downing it in one. “Not all families are the Weasleys.”

“Oi.” Harry and Ron spoke together while Hermione narrowed her eyes and Accioed’ the empty wine glass.

“Look.” Draco shifted in his chair, tugging Harry around to face him. “My parents are a truly wonderful pair of tyrants who I love very much and do not wish to ever expose you to.” It took Harry a few moments to work out what Draco was on about but he nodded, gesturing for Draco to continue. “I didn’t want to scare you off or, heaven forfend, remind you of how I…how we used to be.”

“But you’re not like that anymore,” said Harry, dropping his voice to match Draco. “What do you mean ‘scare me off’? Were you going to ask me out?”

“Yes! Eventually…” Draco’s eyes did a bit of a shifty thing but his hands remained firmly clasped around Harry’s. Harry valiantly tried to remind himself that, apparently, Draco held hands with everyone. It just didn’t really work when Draco was softly rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Harry’s hands.

“When were you going to ask me?”

“What? Oh.” Draco coughed, cleared his throat. “In the…Probably in the new year.”

“That’s bloody ages away!”

“Mmhmm, I thought you might need a while longer to come around to my…” Draco trailed off.

“Pointiness?” Ron suggested, through a mouthful of crisps.

“Selfishness?” Hermione raised the nearly empty bottle of wine she’d been sharing with Draco and gave him A Look.

“Charms,” said Draco, glaring at them both. “I would have kissed you.” He turned back to Harry.

“What?”

“If I’d known we were dating, I would have kissed you.”

“Oh.” All the air seemed to leave the pub as Harry dazedly watched Draco lean closer, his lips shiny and slightly parted.

“We should do this somewhere…not here.” Harry heard himself say. Draco blinked and then sat back, smiling smugly.

“Very well. Another time, on a proper date.” He waited for Harry to nod. “One we both know we’re on.” Harry nodded again. “And now.” Draco turned back to Hermione and Ron. “To the real matter at hand, isn’t it time you tell Harry that you have moved back into his home?”

“What?” Harry’s head snapped up so fast at this that he was fairly sure he felt something tear. “When did that happen?”

“Er…” Hermione was frozen, even her righteous curls were still.

“Harry, mate.” Ron paused, apparently expecting Harry to interrupt. “Alright I know it didn’t work out too well last time—”

“Hermione charmed the rubbish bin to empty directly into my bed when it was too full.” Harry interrupted.

“But mum’s being a bit much at the minute and—”

“It’s just for a few weeks,” said Hermione. “Please?”

“How long have you known about this?” Harry ignored them both and turned to Draco, a thrill of joy shooting through him as he realised Draco was sitting with his arm lightly resting on the back of Harry’s chair.

“Does it matter?” Draco asked, leaning in close to Harry and pressing a small kiss to his shoulder. It was a bit odd and incredibly nice. “After tonight they’ll have more than enough motivation to move out.” He kissed Harry’s shoulder again, grinning as Harry grinned back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Fic headers](http://hd-remix.tumblr.com/post/174336905634/drarry-fic-definitely-pals) and a [pull quote](http://hd-remix.tumblr.com/post/174343287949/we-were-talking-about-you-and-harry-hermione) have been posted to tumblr. Help promote the fest by liking and reblogging!


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